CEO Mama Newsletter: 31st Edition

Hey ,

I saw these stats and immediately something resonated with me that I’ve been struggling to put words to…

• Spending on Father’s Day is lower than Mother’s Day by over $10B and the gap is growing.
  

• Dads report higher satisfaction with the holiday, even with way less fanfare.
  

• And experts agree: cultural expectations shape the emotional load around each of these days.

So, let’s name something that usually goes unsaid:

Father’s Day does feel different.

Noticeably lighter. There’s less pressure. Less emotional charge. Less orchestration. Less expectation.

It lands softly and maybe, if you’re honest, a little uneventful.

That contrast? It’s worth noticing.

Because it reveals something subtle about the roles we carry and the weight of being seen, celebrated, and held.

It’s not just about the day. It’s about what the day reflects.

On Mother’s Day, there’s often a buildup (spoken or unspoken) that feels like it needs to deliver.

To compensate. To make up for the 364 days of invisible labor.

To feel like more than a “thanks, love you.”

On Father’s Day, there’s rarely that same emotional backstory.

No one’s trying to repair a dynamic. No one’s questioning if they’re truly valued.

No one’s holding their breath to see if the gesture matches the effort.

There’s usually a meal. A card. Maybe a nap. And it feels… enough.

Not because dads aren’t doing their part… most of them are.

But because the expectations haven’t been layered with years of unspoken emotional (and physical) debt.

That’s not a complaint. It’s a cultural truth.

Motherhood, in many ways, has been built around emotional management:

Managing others’ needs, moods, development, relationships, logistics, and love.

And that management often becomes internalized.

So even on our own celebration days, we’re still reading the room.
Still curating the moment. Still checking in. 

Father’s Day?

There’s a lot more space to just be.

No big expectations. No emotional performance. No pressure to orchestrate depth.

It’s not that one way is better than the other…it’s that the difference highlights what’s been normalized.

We often say we want to feel seen.

But we also want to feel held without managing how we’re being held.

To be appreciated without prepping for the appreciation.
To be celebrated without scripting the celebration.
To be loved without needing to make space for someone else’s comfort inside of it.

So what does Father’s Day quietly reveal?

That sometimes, less is enough.
That presence doesn’t always need a plan.
That being honored doesn’t have to come with a ceremony or a slideshow.
That maybe… just maybe… we’ve been carrying more layers than we even realized.

Not because anyone asked us to.

But because we’re so good at it, it became invisible.

This weekend, you might be organizing a little something.
You might be doing the Target run for the card and the gift bag.
You might be reminding the kids. Or coordinating with in-laws.

But somewhere in there, notice the difference.

There’s this quiet moment of wondering:

“Is this really enough?”

Knowing how little it takes for him to feel appreciated,
While I often crave something deeper to feel truly seen.

It always makes me pause…
The simplicity of what makes him happy, compared to how much I long to feel deeply acknowledged.

And I catch myself asking:

What would it feel like to take on that same lightness - even for a moment - and drop the expectations I carry for myself?

Yes, for many… Father’s Day is quieter.

And maybe that quiet is an invitation.
Not to do more.
But to observe what’s already been happening.

And maybe, just maybe…
It’s a reminder that you deserve to be celebrated with that same softness.
That same ease.
That same sense of enough-ness.

No performance required.
No production necessary.

Just presence… the way it often seems to be enough for them.

It leads me to ask:

Do we have the expectations of others because the truth is, we have such high expectations of ourselves?

So if you catch yourself overthinking it, pause. Breathe. Let yourself off the hook.

P.S. Inside the CEO Mama Membership, we talk through things like this. If you’re craving a space where your invisible load isn’t invisible anymore, you can apply here to join us in the next round.